


Some lines

by Rioghna



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 04:24:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2414819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rioghna/pseuds/Rioghna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some lines that shouldn't be crossed, some lines even a monster, even Rumplestiltskin will not cross.  And crossing those lines should be painful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some lines

Some Lines

The call came to him as Rumplestiltskin was sitting back in his chair, contemplating the evening, as Belle cleared the table from dinner. He could have cleared it up himself but she had expressed a preference for attending to it, something about not liking the idea of magically cleaned dishes. It might or might not have even caught his attention. He had been ignoring a lot of calls for his services, or to be more accurate, he had become much more selective recently. He was just more inclined to stay to the Castle. The curse he had created to find his son was finished, and only waiting for the right time to be cast. He had a good supply of magic potions, ingredients and other bits and bobs he would need in the other world. He only needed patience. 

Oh, there were other things that needed to be tended like Belle. His Belle, the lovely young woman he had acquired as a part of a deal. As much as he would never admit it to anyone but himself, she had become very important to him. Despite their rocky start, they had begun to actively enjoy their time together. She was not afraid of him, particularly, nor did she shrink from his appearance. In fact, she touched him, hugged him, had even kissed his cheek. The memory took him all manner of places he ought not go. But regardless of what was or was not between them, he had to arrange for her safety once the curse was cast. She needed to be with him, under his protection. Rumplestiltskin didn't trust her safety to anyone, save himself. It was not, perhaps what he would have of her, but ladies didn't fall for old monsters. Still, she had made her desire to be at least friends clear. 

But that was for another time. At the moment, Rumplestiltskin was deciding between spending his evening spinning or simple settling in his chair, listening to Belle read when he heard his name called. It was the desperation of the call that struck him. This was most definitely a soul, that, if he didn't answer, was going to do something drastic. While his sight told him nothing specific, he knew this was a call that he needed to heed, whether he willed or not. 

"I will be gone for a bit," he told Belle as he rose slowly from his chair, summoning his dragonhide coat to him against the outside chill.

"What...will you be long?" Belle asked, a bit startled by the sudden change of plans. She actually wanted to know, and looking in her eyes, he wanted nothing more than to stay in and enjoy the quiet night they had planned. But he knew better.

"I shouldn't be too long. Perhaps...I could join you in your library when I return?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound as hesitant as he felt. But when he had created her library, he had made the space hers and he would never invade it without her specific permission. 

"I would like that," Belle answered with her own smile. "I'll make tea." Rumplestiltskin nodded and with what might have been a courtly bow, disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. 

Long ago he had set the magic that took him straight to where he was summoned. Not that it would work automatically. Anyone could call him, whether he chose to respond, that was another story. He materialised in the central room of a simple home, much like the one he had grown up in, though larger, and better appointed. There was a fire on the hearth, a table with a couple of chairs next to it, and a curtain which separated the main room from what was probably the bedroom. Interesting, he thought. Sitting beside the fire on a small stool was a girl, staring into the fire. He couldn't tell her age in the light but she wasn't a woman grown yet. Her hair hung long down her back, bound in a simple braid, and she had a shawl pulled tight around her shoulders. She hadn't seen him yet, but of course, that was part of his plan. Rumplestiltskin liked to know what he was walking into. He wondered exactly what it was that could make a young girl have so much desperation in her call. Of course there were the usual reasons, and at her age, he remembered from his own son, some things seemed far more desperate than others. But it wouldn't do to put up anything but his most frightening persona. 

So he waited. After a few moments, the girl turned away from the fire and stood up, her shoulders slumped in disappointment. Until she turned around. To give her credit, she didn't scream. It had happened before, not a few times, but he preferred it when they didn't. "You...you're him...you're the Dark One," she stuttered, looking at him. He wasn't exactly sure what to make of her expression. There was a wariness that was familiar, at least it told him she was smart enough to be cautious. What he didn't see was fear, or not as much fear as he expected for her age. 

"I am," he said covering his slight confusion with a flourish and a bow. Surely this girl was too young for the usual things that he was called for. She looked as if her family did well, certainly she wasn't starving, the house was warm. It was possible that she was with a child, though the thought sickened him. But she should be far too young to need to trade away an inconvenient child, and far too young to be wanting him to acquire one either. But her desperation had called to him, and that could not be faked. "And you are?" he asked, with his usual smirk. 

"I...do I have to give you my name?" she asked. So, smart girl, more frightened than she let on as well, he thought. 

"Well done, child, names have power. But as you wish to make a deal with me, I will know your name one way or another. Mine is Rumplestiltskin, if that makes it any easier."

"Sara, my name is Sara," she said. 

She was putting a very good face on it, but she was definitely terrified, he could smell it in the very air. But she wasn't afraid of him, or more than was reasonable. There was definitely something off here. "So what is it that you want, Sara? Riches? Fame? A royal marriage, love?" he tittered at her, playing the part as he did so well. "What is it that a young girl like you needs so much that she calls the Dark One?"

"No, none of that." she said carefully. "I want...I want a new life... somewhere else, far away from here."

"Adventure, eh? Not riches, or fame, no big house?" he asked. "I could give you any of those things, just as easily," he said with a flourish of his hands, trying to cover his confusion. There was more going on here than he could see yet. People never asked for anything this simple, it wasn't in there nature. Still, he was not one to resist a deal, or a mystery. 

"No, no adventure, just a new life. I can cook well enough, possibly I could work in a kitchen somewhere. Surely there are nobles who need a scullery maid or even an apprenticeship, a skilled trade?" Sara asked. She had thought about this, he could tell. These were specific requests, ones that she had taken a long time to think about and consider carefully, not the flights of fantasy of a child. Interesting. 

"Easy enough," he said. Of course it would be just as easy for her family to arrange things for her, assuming she was in fact the daughter of the house, and not a servant or some penniless relative dropped on unwilling family. "Now, the question is, what have you to offer me, ehhh? All magic has a price." he giggled again, with a dramatic gesture towards himself, trying to be as unnerving as possible. This was not meant to be easy, otherwise everyone would want a deal. Not that it really ever stopped people, and for the most part, he didn't much care. But he had no desire to trap children in deals they didn't understand. Still there was something about this girl, this child, that made him want to deal with her, even though there was no benefit in it for him. It wasn't the future either, no visions were forthcoming, his sight dormant. 

The girl took a deep breath and tried to smile. "I have something...I...I can make you feel good." She walked towards him on clearly trembling legs.

Rumplestiltskin was gobsmacked. "You what?" he said, his voice having dropped from its public, high pitched sing song, to something deeper, well it would have been if he hadn't almost squeaked in surprise. It wasn't the first time he had been offered that particular deal. There were woman desperate enough certainly, but while he was a monster, he was not that sort of monster and there were some lines that even a monster wouldn't cross. There were plenty of the other kind, women whose tastes were jaded or something. Those were an entirely different story. Still she was a child, not a woman, and certainly not old enough to know exactly what she was suggesting much less to want it. 

Sara stepped forward slowly, looking like she was trying imitate the slatterns from the local tavern. "I know how to make you feel good, I promise," she said as she stepped right up to him. It took everything in him not to back up nor to allow the disgust to show in his face. He was determined to see exactly what game she was playing. "Daddy taught me." 

In a flash, clarity. It took more than a century of self control to keep the meal that Belle had so carefully prepared from making a return appearance. "He...did," he said carefully. His voice was controlled, cold, all his sing song, all the dramatic flourishes wiped away. Rumplestiltskin knew such things happened, though it wasn't a thing that people talked about or admitted in public. He had seen the results a time or two. There had been a man in his old village, he remembered. He also remembered the day that he had 'left' town, his face a mass of bruises, driven away in a shower of rocks and rotten food, even manure, whatever had come to hand. He was the first to admit, he had been a part of it, for once included in the outrage, as every parent in the village had been. It was one thing to be the village coward, but that was a crime of a different nature. A nature which included several of the farmers and the town butcher offering to make certain he would never do it again.

"It's..." but he caught her hand as it came to touch him. 

"Why would you make such an offer?" he asked, his voice softer, more kindly than anyone would expect. He could see the tears starting to rise.

"I...I have nothing else..." she whispered.

"Tell me," he said, taking her carefully sit before the fire. Sara had started to shiver, and with a flick of his wrist the fire blazed up. She told her story softly, barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of the flames, but his hearing was exceptional. It wasn't the first time he had heard such a story, though it was the first time he had been called for that kind of deal. Her mother had died after marrying her step father, and after her death, the maggot had expected her to take over her mother's duties, all of her duties. He hadn't wanted to hear the details, he really hadn't but he needed to know exactly what kind of price needed to be extracted. 

"You may have your deal," he said finally. "I will take you some place, far away, where no one knows you, and see that you are set with work, and a place to live. If you have anything you want to take with you, you'd best get it."

"But, the price?" she asked frightened. The stories had been very clear, when the Dark One made a deal, he always got his due, and all magic had a price. 

"Oh, I will get my price, I always do. But you won't be the one paying it," he giggled. The darkness that he kept so well controlled was battering at the walls of it's cage, and for once, this time, he was going to let it out.

 

It was late, very late, when Bernard stumbled into his home, drunk with only one thing on his mind. "Sara, Sara," he roared as he slammed the door. He muttered under his breath, where was the little slut. If she was hiding again he'd tan..."

"Good evening, Bernard," the figure by the fire growled. "I have a price coming to me, and you are the one who get's to pay it." There was a giggle, and the door slammed shut and bolted itself. 

 

Rumplestiltskin appeared in his tower, and moved quickly and quietly down the stairs towards his chambers. He was tired, disgusted and filthy, and all he wanted was to retreat to a bath. Oh, he could magic away the mess, but somethings required more than that. In this case, it required old fashioned soap and water hot enough to scrub away the horror of the evening. Not that he regretted anything he had done, it was good work, not that anyone would believe it. Sara, he knew would never tell, and her step father...well, he most certainly wouldn't be saying anything to anyone, ever. The dark spirit in the back of his mind was sated for the time being and curled up practically purring. 

Right now, he was hoping to banish his clothes into oblivion, take a hot bath and then, with luck, he would find Belle asleep in the library, waiting for him to return. Belle, beautiful, intelligent, and innocent, and as much as he wished to go bask in her light, he couldn't, not until he got himself cleaned up. She should not be exposed to the ugliness of this evening. Certainly she didn't need to be any more aware of what he was capable of. 

"Rumple?" As if conjured from his thoughts, Belle appeared at the end of the hall. 

"Belle. It's late, what are you doing up?" he asked, not wanting her to see exactly how much she had startled him and wanting her to see the state of him even less. 

"You were gone longer than I expected. I just woke up in the library alone." It wasn't an accusation, she seemed to legitimately miss his company. "I was coming down to..." Belle paused and looked at him, really looked at him for the first time. "Rumple, are you alright, what happened?" she asked, taking in the suspicious stains and the blood splashed on his boots. 

With a wave of his hand, he was clean, caring less at the moment for his stained spirit and more for Belle's comfort. "It's nothing, dearie, not mine. I am fine," he said, his voice soft and trying for reassuring. "The deal ended up being a little more...complicated than I first expected."

"What...what did you do?" she asked. He didn't want to tell her. It wasn't the sort of thing a well brought up young woman should hear. But at the same time, he couldn't stand for her to see him as the rest of the world saw him, as the monster he knew he was. 

"I made a deal, that is what I do," he told her. "I helped a girl out of a bad situation." It was an answer, but not enough of one. "Perhaps, you could make us some tea, and I will tell you the story," Not all of it, of course, she didn't need to know all of it. But sometimes, it was nice to be the hero.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this fic came from but it has been sitting around as a series of notes for about six months, the product of a discussion about what and where Rumplestiltskin draws his lines. Please, read, enjoy, comment. It is a little odd and I'm not sure about it, but here it is for what it's worth.


End file.
